(maximumrocknroll.com) So, this issue is actually more interesting than usual, because it opens with a letters section in which Mykel Board and the editors tussle about MRR's refusal to print one of his columns with some offensive content. What's interesting is that no one seems to be totally wrong, but Board is being civil and sensible addressing this, and the MRR content coordinators are being just as sensible, but kinda dick-ish in tone, especially in dismissing Board's older, less punk-centric readers. Not that they shouldn't be dismissed (they are just writing to rabble rouse because of perceived censorship/injustice without knowing much about the situation), but it's surprising how nasty and judgmental (and not particularly funny) the insults aimed at them are. That said, the current content the content coordinatrs are coordinating is pretty good -- this issue has great interviews with cartoonist Avi Spivak and Alabama/Chicago punk band Breathing Light, a good comic, and all the reviews/scene reports/cool ads you always read MRR for (when you were sixteen). And it has a Mykel Board column about getting his balls sucked. All is right in punk!

Dann and Helen, of Betty Paginated infamy, continue to marvel at and document their children. Looking forward to the 2022 prom issue! Note: rather than put fotos of their kids online w/o permission, imagine these two dogs were cute, blonde children.

(Adept) Awesomely all-American
absurdity, combining Beefheart freakouts, new wave folk music, anonymous truckstop
sex, and toe tapping audio deviance. This is the soundtrack to a James Bond
porno, if James Bond was from Arkansas.

(wattamelon.com) Charles Schulz spoke about the design issues
that resulted from making Charlie Brown’s head so big (he can’t lift arms over
head, can’t ride bikes, for some reason). But David Huyck take it to a whole
nother level, exploring the tragedies of comic big head-ism. And it’s adorable!
While being tragic. And designed exquisitely. And tragically.

(In The Red)
This might sound like raw sewage but it smells like pure genius! Not sure if Timmy makes cacophony sound catchy or if he makes catchy music sound
cacophonous, but I am sure he’s got some profoundly powerful musical mojo!

(Saustex) You know what this compilation sounds
like? America! Highlights include one man band legend T. Tex Edwards, brilliant
no-fi superheroes Copper Gamins, absurdist blues glamsters Glambilly, and a new
band (to me) Gay Sportscasters, who play slightly goofy Americana, and I
beleive they are the only Americana band to ever mention Grace Jones. You know
with this label is all about? America!

(Bar None) I sure used to love the Replacements,
though I never listen to them anymore, so the first thing I’d like to do here
is thank Jonathan Bright and Tom Littlefield for reminding me how solid and
awesome and catchy and different that mighty Minnesota band’s music was/is.
These ukulele cover versions certainly demonstrate the strength of the source
material, and this is sincere and far from a novelty record. But as pleasant as
“Treatment Bound” is, it maybe could be improved by being a bit more novel…I’m
sort of shocked that this isn’t an instrumental record. They are paying tribute
to the ‘Mats, but not to the ukes…they should have let the little guys have the
spotlight to show off their unique musical character (and the non-lyrical
qualities of Paul Westerberg’s compositions) more. While the whimsical
qualities of the instrument (and the bang-a-pot percussion aesthetic employed
here) are well showcased, by singing these songs straight (or at all) it takes
away from the ukul-arious humor inherent in uke use, and obscures the mastery of
the instrument by these fine pickers. Still, really nice record overall, and I’ll
spin it alongside the Replacement records I’m playing this week.

Sunday, November 25, 2012

(www.godiyrecords.com) In the age of Soundcloud, Facebook, and accessible roadmaps to actual DIY ways
to release vinyl, CDs, and digital, it’s hard to believe there are still scores
of bands that would pay to be on no frills compilations, convinced this is the
path to success. On the other hand, I’m always excited to get these comps,
because I want to hear exactly what kind of band goes for this. On the Illinois
comp the ringer is Dot Dot Dot, not either of the two experimental bands that
had that name in prior eras, but the successful reality show band, and their
super slick production is not that compelling. Actually, super high production
values are abundant on this. Maybe the same bands that go to expensive studios
in the era of home recording also commit to this kind of comps. The Dylan/Tom
Petty mimic act John L. Sullivan is maybe my fave here. Best band name is
Shortstop From Tokyo, and their pop punk (with brass) is solid but not too
original. And though Iguchi was born in Tokyo, I don’t think he ever played
anything but second base for the Sox, so I believe there has never been an
Illinois Shortstop From Tokyo. The only band I know on this is the Joans, the
all-Joan Crawford drag band, who are, of course, awesome 9how could they not be…they
are all Joan Crawford). I liked Convoy and Wet Ashes as well. Forgive me for
being less thorough on my non-home state releases: For Wisconsin the best name
is Cannibal Galaxy, but the absolute worst name, making it possibly the best
name, is Random Maxx, but since they just sound like a terrible Christian Rock
band trying to go secular, I will again nod towards Cannibal Galaxy, who are unoriginal
proggy alternative metal, but that’s still better. Not a lot of standouts here,
but the country grooves of Butcher Class Hogs are pretty solid. Oddly, no
really good band names on the Michigan one, but way more good music than Wisconsin.
The Sanger Brothers are outstanding and as far as monkey songs go, The Implants
deliver a 4 bananas up tune. The Kentucky edition is pretty decent, one of the first comps where the best band names have the best songs (ROugh Customers, Japanese School Girls, Uh Huh Baby Yeah!"). Virginia had a surprosing amount of novelty stuff considering how unfunny that state usually is. The Accidents, Evan Wofford, and Feed GOd Cabbage all add whimsy to the mix. I can’t figure out the “Transatlantic” editions
concept: the cover is just a giant Illinois covering upa map of Europe (including Iceland).
So, there are so many suckers in my state, and so few in the entire continent
of Europe, that this odd configuration was a necessity? Fightball is the best
name. And they have a pretty good song. Bewized might be a good name if I knew
how it was pronounced and weird lo-fi belchy deathmetal is something I can get
behind. If I knew if they were from Peoria or Transylvania it might help me get
into it more, but they don’t give hometowns on the sleeves, and I’m not going
to 20 websites per disc for more info. But assuming the weird brutal strange-voiced
songs are from Europe and the power pop is from Illinois, I’ll give Europeans
credit for at least not spending any money in recording studios. No-fi
brutality is the way to go DIY in my book.

(thisisamygore.com) Rockin’ pop
with solid singing, though not flawless vocal choices. There are moments when Amy
Gore goes Pat Benatar when Joan Jett might be more effective, or 80s Heart when
70s Heart might be a better fit, but bottomline is Ms. Gore can sing, and this
rock n roll valentine will warn your cockle.

(soulpunkswing.com) Upbeat
ditties that sound like a fun-loving tweaker gloriously failing to compose a
new season of Schoolhouse Rock songs
with themes like “Fuck the Future,” “Getting Naked,” and “Play Marco Polo.”
Produced by two of out favorite people in the world (the Millionaire, owner of some
of Sammy Davis Jr’s clothes, and Kristian Hoffman, who helped Lance Loud, Klaus
Nomi, and that reality show powdered wig glam opera singer make their musical
visions come alive) and featuring both the funky and the punky, this will be
bigger than any other Abe Lincoln-themed project this decade!

(soundcloud.com/sindie4) Weirdly wonderful ambitious pop (from Russia! And not jailed for music making!) that
combines Max’s Kansas City 70s oddness, Ringo b-side quirks, and bizarre
narratives (if the illustration and Track 2 of “Look But Don’t Touch” are not
things I hallucinated, it’s about stealing the Meg White statue from a rock n
roll sculpture museum), and some kind of alchemy where grand production somehow
results in intimate, almost claustrophobic, music. The tunes here reference
everything without ripping anything off. Era-less and errorless.

(Mighty Mouth) This is a pretty legendary single being reissued: DIY superhero Rep’s 1975 (though supposedly it was not distributed til 1978 when Bomp got their hands on some copies) debut was a garage trash meets stoner metal meets bedroom pop meets outsider weirdo meets Detroit gutter rock HIT on one side, with a flipside that’s just ambient stereo-headphone phasing space noises…in mono! Though the record (with original sleeve, insert and label reproduced faithfully) says 33 1/3 rpm, it’s supposed to be played at 45, but if you play the ambient side at 33 1/3 you get extra minutes of confusion!

(Mighty Mouth) A reissue of my favorite kind
of private press record. While the Plastic Crimewaves of the world dream of
finding one of the 100 copies of some visionary genius’ psychedelic workout
that is more mind expanding than anything San Francisco’s psyche superstars cranked
out, when I find a that-don’t-look-right
LP in the reject bin my hopes are that it is an idiosyncratic, goofy, novelty
record with humor that either succeeds or fails so spectacularly that joy
drenches me like the shower in Silkwood.
By that criteria, this batch of Boston bizarre-ness (circa 1971, though Arvedon
did 60s garage and still records) more than qualifies for my Hall of Freaky
Fame. This cornucopia of kookiness includes a streakin’ song, a better
basketball tune than Kurtis Blow’s, a pottymouthed ode to the Untouchables, the
only non-racist (and the catchiest ever) white pride anthem, and a few
functional pop songs that are as good as anything out there (“Find Something
Better to Do” and “Roller Coaster Baby” can’t be fucked with). And you have to
give Mighty Mouth credit for releasing this record with the original no-frills
packaging. Pure weirdness should be kept pure! Again, his “Whitey White” song
is not racist…this record is about weird-o purity, not racial purity!

(Last Laugh) Reissue of ultra-expensive late 70s New
England weirdo punk double A-side with a fuzzed out New Wave garage workout on
the first A-side and the seconf A-side showcasing a Dr. Demento meets Question
Mark’s keyboard player’s index fingers meets Captain Beefheart’s cousin’s cover
band meets an actual talking dog meets a New Wave “ban” on a 1982 sitcom
masterpiece. Killed By Deathers prefer “I Don’t Need You,” which is reasonable,
but “Dogs” is the kind of thing I dream of when I find a weird, unknown, small
press record.

(Almost Ready) Contemporary Canadian
band covers songs by the Bohemians, the 60s garage band one of their dad’s was
in. Better than both the Frank Sinatra. Jr. tribute show to his dad and WAY
better than Louis Prima Jr’s show! The wailing “I Need You Baby” is especially
impressive, and even if it’s not as good as the original, it’ll cost you about
$80 less to get this version

(Last Laugh) This 70s/80s Brit power pop punk act
released a bunch of cool singles, and their reissues/comps have outpaced their
original releases in recent years. These are two killer demos, which it’s hard
to believe have sat on shelves since the leisure suit era, but maybe they went
unreleased because the band was already Stones-y, and at some point had a Keith andMick in the band, so perhaps releasing
a song called “Bitch” was just too much.

(Almost Ready) The best song on
this three track comp is Boys Club’s snotty off-fi impudence punker. But Home
Blitz delivers some fine speedy trash rock (thrash
trash?), and Nothing People do their best to hypnotize with bizarro drones.

(Drug Front Records) A half dozen (plus two…plus more on the digital download) high speed
rock n roll car crashes caused by the driver receiving a sloppy, inebriated
blowjob while negotiating a tricky turn. The car crash, and in my mind this
record, is followed by a gloriously satisfying sad trombone (which is a sound
effect, not a sex act…or is it?). The record also contains some trash rock that
qualifies as primo dryland surf, which also should be the name of a sex act.

(Drug Front) When I was a kid I played on a baseball team called the Staggs (we played at Stagg Field) and we played a team from Lab School. When I went out to 2nd base after the third inning my Labbie equivalent had etched "Staggs are Fags" into the infield dirt. I changed it to "Labs are Fags." I wish I had been sensitive to gay rights and clever enough to have changed it to "Labs are Scabs," because it rhymes better, and in Chicago being anti-Union always got you beatdown quicker than being gay. Anyhow, I wouldn't call these Stags names because they sound like they could kick my ass and because their song about butter is tastier than actual butter.

(Almost Ready) You can’t know every
band, and I have to admit I never really get a grip on what Big Dipper were all
about, knowing a few songs from college radio, but never buying their records.
Listening to this new album of high sheen, flawless ethereal power pop doesn’t
exactly make me regret this path, but I guarantee that I’ll pick up “Crap” next
time I see it in a used bin – I always liked that cover. All the songs here are
pretty good, but an ode to a guitar named Desire and an ode to cancer, and an
ode to the father of the heroine of Chitty
Chitty Bang Bang are all stellar.

(Almost Ready) This
reissue of an ultra-rare 1981 45 by Rockin’ Joe Hebert (Ocean Staters know him
for his comedy stylings) has some amazing balance/imbalance magic happening,
where Joe has crafted two can’t miss, morning radio novelty numbers, an anti-preppy
tune to cash in on the Preppy Handbook
fad (don’t feel like explaining it to folks under 40, justgoogle away) and a bouncy number about
going on a first date. But his band, while delivering the kind of bouncy pop the
songs require, can’t help but engage in the kind of fuzzy, nasty punk that
undermines the commercial possibilities. Nothing succeeds more than failed
novelty!

(Total Punk) I get so many
punk/indie/garage/trash singles, these days (and a lot of cassettes for some
reason), but it is genuinely ultra-rare that one of them is so good that I
imagine someone comp-ing it on the 2038 equivalent of a Killed By Death album. But both of these songs are so stupid,
catchy, awesome, and ridiculous that I won’t sell this for 400 holo-laser-dollars,
or whatever the money is in the future.

(Florida’s Dying) This band is as strange
as anything from the demented state of Florida (and my experiences in America’s
penis have never been less than dramatically decadent, abusive, and confusing).
CCCP are most impressive because their singular sound (can’t really think of
who to compare them too with any accuracy) seems to take arty elements (time
signature shenanigans, chanting, ancient texts lyrically referenced, post-psyche
experimentation) and make them sound lowbrow and regular instead of asshole-ish
and elitist. I’ve been listening to this record for two or three hours and I’m
as high as a fucking satellite just off the audio buzz.

(Almost Ready) We have already (rave) reviewed both of these releases, but it's worth celebrating these new cassette reissues. As far as Nobunny, one could argue (certainly for no-fi tunes like "Nobunny Loves You," which opens this one), that the masked carrot-chomper has achieved the Bad Brains-esque magic of creating music that only sounds right on cassette. If not, one has to at least acknowledge that if his Burger cassette wasn't the release that launched the cassette revival, it was certainly a landmark. And the Liquor Store deserves cassette-revival because those awesome titties are straight up truckstop tape material!

(Autisitic/Last Laugh) For Chicago punk fans these are two of the most exciting
releases since the days when both Bozo and Pogo were making local clown history.
The “Gacy’s Place” EP is a faithful reproduction of Chicago's most notorious
and mysterious punk record…and is a gift to the world. As former Chicago
Reader editor Allison True has recently devoted her skills to re-opening
the John Wayne Gacy murder case by discovering unidentified victims, and as
Michelle Bachman lost the 2012 presidential race because she didn't know the
difference between John Wayne and John Wayne Gacy, let's all remember a time
when Chicagoland's clownish serial killer not only shocked and terrified a
nation, but also inspired some fine music. OK, the only two songs I can think
of about him were a terrible Steve Dahl parody record based on "Another
Brick in the Wall" (which I remember as being "Another Fag in the
Cement," but that can't be right, can it? Just looked it up...it was
called "Another Kid in the Crawl," which ain't much classier), and
this one. Mentally Ill, because of this weird, wonderful, eerie, bizarre,
mentally ill sounding record, became the most revered and infamous punk band in
Chicago without anyone actually knowing who they were or seeing them play.
Around the turn of this century they reemerged, releasing archival material on
Alternative Tentacles and recording new material with Steve Albini, which they
sort of self-released (good luck finding it). Amazingly, they remained just as mysterious even after they
began playing out. Were they secret millionaires who flew around the country
playing depraved punk rock (kinda rock n roll Batmans), or were they actually
mental patients who waited decades to reveal their lunacy? Who knows and who
cares? I am just glad to get a copy of this amazing 3 song Rorschach test for
under $200! And I’m equally glad to get a vinyl (red vinyl at that) version of
their 1999 Albini recordings, which only occasionally submit to Albini’s heavy
thumbprint. For the most part these are strange, almost catchy tunes (more
accessible, though not less demented, than most of the bizarre material that
filled out the Alternative Tentacles compilation). Though most songs are
abrasive, deviant odes to alternative sexcapades (involving mayonnaise, bondage
wear, bugs, pets, and non-money shot bodily fluids) it’s pretty amazing how
toe-tapping these tunes are. In fact, they played two of them on our children’s
chow, Chic-A-Go-Go, and the backcover
includes a photo montage of them terrorizing children! There’s even a Modern Lovers
cover, just to add to the confusion. You need these records!